


The Night of the Leapus

by VivArney



Series: The Blink Series [2]
Category: Quantum Leap, Wild Wild West (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 10:55:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5624461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VivArney/pseuds/VivArney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Third story in the Blink series</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Night of the Leapus

Artemus Gordon slammed his fist down on the desk in frustration as he re-read the message he'd just  
received off the telegraph. 

James West, lying on the sofa across the room, looked up from the newspaper he'd been reading. "Artie?"

"Of all the utter, unconscionable stupidity!" the older man shouted. 

West dropped the paper onto the floor and came over to the desk in earnest concern. "What's happened?" he  
asked worriedly, knowing his partner's sudden fury had to have come from somewhere.

Artemus took a deep breath and tried to calm down. "I knew I should have destroyed it while I had the  
chance!"

"Artie, what is it?"

"Dr. Loveless' time device - it's been stolen from Washington. Apparently, the agents guarding it spotted Voltaire in the area at about the same time. 

West sighed and hung his head in resignation. "And of course no one has any idea where Loveless might have taken it?"

His partner glared at the handwritten note on the desk. "What do you think?"

"I think we'd better get back to Washington and try to find that machine before he decides to use it again."

Artie nodded. "Yes, I agree. Unfortunately this all happened three days ago. By the time we get to Washington, he could destroy the entire timeline."

* * * * *

The blue light of Leaping passed, leaving Sam Beckett blinking in confusion at his surroundings. He took a deep breath and looked around the room. There were antiques everywhere. A heavy table was laid with delicate china and flatware that had to be pure silver, judging by the gleam. A pitcher in the center of the table held what appeared to be lemonade. The aroma of freshly baked bread wafted toward him, making his mouth water.

The windows were open and delicate white lace curtains flapped lazily in the cool breeze. Maybe this Leap wouldn't be too bad, after all.

He looked down to see that even his clothing seemed to be antique. His trousers were held up with suspenders  
unlike any he'd ever seen before and his jacket was made of a soft, smoky velvet that should have been too  
warm, but wasn't.

"John, I hope you're hungry. Mattie's prepared one of your favorites," a woman's voice called as she entered  
the room, followed by a pretty, black woman carrying a large tray.

Sam's eyes went wide with disbelief as he suddenly recognized his great-grandmother, Olivia. "Uh, I . . . Oh, boy."

* * * * *

Weeks passed with no word of Loveless' whereabouts and, with other cases pending, Jim and Artie had little time to spend looking for the diminutive scientist. Count Manzeppi was plotting to destroy the nation's railroads, there was a Chinese fugitive named Kwai Chang Caine to investigate and a report of a man named Duncan McLead who had apparently left two headless bodies in New Orleans. All in all, it had been a busy month and the Secret Service agents were looking forward to a little piece and quiet.

* * * * *

The sky was dark and threatening despite the fact that it was only just past eight in the morning. I stood in a line at the crowded station waiting to board the train that would take me to the Wild Wild West listgroup's Annual Gathering. I'd considered flying, but when my friend, George, who works for Amtrak, offered me a free round trip ticket as an early  
birthday present, I jumped at the chance. Somehow, it seemed only right to go to a Wild Wild West gathering on board a train - granted it wasn't a steam train, and I had do leave about three days earlier than if I'd taken a plane, but ya takes what ya can when ya can! Right? :)

I was really looking forward to meeting some of the friends I'd made via e-mail face to face for the first time. Besides, I'd been working hard lately and figured I'd earned a nice vacation.

I was wearing my X-Files T-shirt, sneakers and jeans - might as well be comfortable - and I'd brought along some of my Wild Wild West zines in a tote bag to sell if anybody seemed interested and carried a backpack, a fairly large duffel bag and a boombox. By the time we got to board the train, my arms were starting to get tired so I was glad when I finally settled into a seat.

I lowered my "superspecs" and pulled my hat down. I pulled my headphones from the tote bag and plugged them into the boombox and started a tape, closed my eyes and dozed off.

* * * * *

As Sam ate the wonderful food Olivia Beckett's housekeeper had placed in front of him, he started to relax and let himself settle back in his chair with a contented smile. The house was different than he remembered from his previous Leap, but that was easily explained because John and Olivia Beckett had moved to Indiana not long after the Civil War. A small boy of about ten or twelve had entered a few moments before dinner was served and it took only a second for Sam to  
remember that the boy would become his grandfather, He flashed the boy a fond grin. Somehow his Swiss-cheesed memory wouldn't let him remember his name.

The boy had been telling them that somebody named Mitzi Martin had been trying to get him to kiss her.

Olivia had started to protest, but Sam's hand on her arm prevented her from raising a fuss. "I doubt he's too unhappy about the attention, Olivia."

The boy grinned. "She is very pretty, Mother."

"That's still no excuse for such wanton behavior. I'll have a word with her mother."

Sam looked up as he saw the glaring white square of the Imaging Chamber door appear beside him.

Al walked through, punching buttons madly on the handlink and fuming. "Damnit, Gooshie, what's the matter with Ziggy this time?"

Sam excused himself and walked out of the room, knowing that Al would follow him. "What's up, Al?" he asked in a hushed voice.

"Ziggy doesn't know."

"What else is new?" Sam sighed. "I'm my great-grandfather again. What year is it?"

"1878," Al answered. "That's why it took so long to find you, but we can't figure out why you're here. According to the records, everything for John and Olivia Beckett was happily ever after once you got them together in 1862."

"Well, I'm sure there's a reason. I guess I'll just have to wait to see what happens."

* * * * *

When I woke the train was making slight rocking motions. It was dark and I figured I'd slept all day and the sun had gone down which meant I'd missed my connection and was probably a long way from home. Frowning, I took off my sunglasses and looked around. The first thing I realized was that I wasn't where I thought I was. I was in a richly paneled room lit by oil lamps.

A familiar figure sat in a chair nearby and I sat up and glared at the little man.

"Loveless? Oh, man, not again!"

"How are you feeling, Miss Arney?" he asked. 

"What the hell are you up to this time?" I asked, getting madder every minute.

"Please, before you work yourself into a rage, I need your help."

"I'm not helping you," I said.

"Oh, but I think you will."

"What makes you think that?"

"Well, in an odd way, you caused this particular problem."

"You're so full of. . . Don't you go blaming me for your mistakes!"

"Please let me explain. . . "

"Don't you know the damage you could cause to your future?" I asked. During my first visit a few years earlier, Artie and I had figured out that their history and mine were slightly different. It didn't really matter that this is an alternate dimension, (I wasn't sure any of us had mentioned it to Dr. Loveless) but whatever he had planned, it couldn't be  
a good thing. I launched into a tirade about what I knew about the dangers of messing around with Time. (Artie told me later that Miguelito Loveless had been quite impressed with my rather offensive vocabulary and that I'd carried on for a good five minutes without once repeating myself or mentioning his size.)

He finally slammed his cane down hard on the corner of the end table and, surprised, I shut up. Really, I was winding down anyway and his rap on the table seemed to give me a good excuse to stop.

"Now, that I've listened to your rather long and "expressive" diatribe on the subject of time travel. I would like to explain why I've - as you said "hauled" you back."

I shrugged. "Why not?" I settled back in my chair and waited while he took a deep breath.

"After I was arrested for that last incident in Kansas, I spent a good deal of time speculating on your size."

I gave him a confused look. "My size?"

He nodded. "Yes, you and Voltaire are the largest people I've ever seen."

"What about Kitten Twitty?" I asked.

He waved the suggestion away. "She was only five feet tall. You're almost an entire foot taller."

"Voltaire's a lot taller than me," I reminded him. 

He nodded. "Precisely my point, Miss Arney. I surmised that people in your time are going to be a good deal taller than those in ours."

"In some ways, that's true, but that's just better nutrition, medicine and maybe a little evolution." Suddenly, I realized what he was getting at. "You want to prevent people from being like you, don't you?"

He nodded.

I shook my head. "Sorry, it won't work. There are still "little people" in my time."

He sighed. "I wish I'd known that before I started my experiments."

"What have you been up to?" I asked suspiciously.

"I managed to locate the chemicals which make people and animals grow."

"Okay."

"Well, I had started experimenting on rabbits and. . .  
"

I rolled my eyes. "Don't tell me; now you've got a herd of giant bunny rabbits running around."

He nodded. "I thought we could control them, but they breed...

I couldn't resist it. "Like rabbits?"

He winced. "Must you put it that way?"

"Hey, they're your bunnies!" I said with a grin.

"I am reluctant to admit it, but I'm going to need your help."

"My help? You f---, er, mess around like a mad scientist in a bad "B" movie and now you need MY help. No, Bud, you don't need me, you need DeForest Kelley, Stuart Whitman, Rory Calhoun and about twenty million volts!"

"Excuse me?"

"Never mind." I frowned. "Now wait a minute, if you're always trying to take over the world, why not let the bunnies do it for you?

"This wasn't part of my plan."

"You mean, if you're gonna take over the world, you're gonna do it your way?"

"Exactly."

"There's an old saying, Doc, be careful what you wish for, you might get it."

"I don't need your stale platitudes, Miss Arney. We must destroy those rabbits. And please do not call me  
"Doc."

"Okay, okay! Exactly how big are these goomers?"

"Their shoulders are almost as high as your waist," he admitted. "We have managed to keep them fenced, but should any of them escape, they could do tremendous damage to the local farms."

"Figures. Listen, we can't do this without help. We've got to get Jim and Artie."

"Must we?"

"What's the matter - embarrassed?"

"I'd rather not involve those two. You understand, of course."

"Well, if these bunnies of yours are capable of doing that much damage, Jim and Artie will be here before too long, anyway. Besides, if you're going to get this problem solved, you're going to need them - and anybody else we can get."

He sighed and nodded. "I agree."

* * * * *

Artie stared in disbelief at the newest telegram. "Jim!"

His partner appeared, shirtless, buttoning his trousers as he came from behind the far door. "What is it?"

"You'll never believe this. . ."

"What?"

"I just received a telegram from Vivian."

"That woman from the future? How?"

"Apparently, she's with Dr. Loveless and they're asking for us to meet them in Elk Ridge, Indiana."

"What would she be doing with Dr. Loveless? It's got to be a trap of some sort."

Artie shrugged. "Possibly, but the time machine was stolen and, from the wording of the telegram, I'm sure Vivian's with him. Whatever he's done this time, she's working with him voluntarily."

"I suppose we'd better start for Elk Ridge, then," Jim said as he walked back to the other end of the train to finish dressing and have a word with the engineer. 

Artie reread the hastily scribbled note.

"To Artemus Gordon and James West - U. S. Secret Service - URGENT - Message relayed from Secret Service Headquarters: Hey, Guys, got a double red-light hyper emergency for you in Elk Ridge, Indiana. Dr. L.'s  
been messing around and needs your help. I'm stuck here 'til this mess gets settled. Get your keisters over here - A.S.A.P.! Viv"

He couldn't resist grinning. "Definitely from Vivian." The rest of the message contained orders from Colonel Richmond to get on the case. He reached over to transmit a message to the Colonel and Vivian letting them know that he and Jim would soon be on their way to Indiana.

* * * * *

Loveless, Voltaire and I were waiting at the Elk Ridge train depot when Jim and Artie arrived the two days later.

I whooped at Jim and Artie as I walked over toward the train car. I had to really watch out for the tracks - they were a lot taller than the ones I was used to, but at least I didn't have those silly skirts getting in my way and no amount of coaxing from Dr. Loveless could get me to put on the dress he'd gotten for me either.

I have to admit I was glad to see the guys as they hopped down from the back of the train. I got a hug from each of them as we walked back to where Loveless and Voltaire were standing. I could tell all of the men were nervous - this was a  
pretty strange situation for all of them.

As we walked to where Dr. Loveless' carriage was parked, the Doctor and I tried to explain what was going on. I could tell that Jim and Artie were having trouble keeping a straight face.

"Giant rabbits?" Jim asked incredulously. He shook his head and started heading back toward the train. 

Artie grabbed his arm and pulled him back toward the carriage.

"I didn't think you'd believe it. Why else do you think I didn't tell you what was going on?"

"It's a trick of some sort," Artie began. "He's using you to trap us."

I shook my head. "No, he's not. I've seen these things. They're as tall as I am and twice as mean."  
I glared at Loveless. "Maybe it is a trap but, if these things get loose, they could..."

He nodded then looked over at Jim who first shrugged, then nodded. "Very well. Doctor, humiliating as this  
may be for all of us, we're here to help."

"Thank you, Mr. Gordon. And just to set your minds at ease, I assure you this is no trap."

"You realize, of course, that we're never going to let you live this one down," Jim said with a grin.

"I'd expected better of you, Mr. West."

"Giant bunnies, Doctor?"

"If the possibility of crop damage weren't so bad, y'all, I'd be laughing too," I admitted. "With harvest time coming, though, I know how nervous the local farmers are getting. My grandfather was a farmer and my Uncle Ralph still raises wheat, alfalfa and such in Kansas near Dodge City."

Artie nodded. "I understand."

The carriage ride back to Dr. Loveless' farmhouse was nerve-wracking. Voltaire was having trouble  
remembering that he had to be nice - or at least tolerant - of his old enemies.

* * * * *

Sam walked through the stand of healthy corn and took a deep breath of the clean air. He hadn't realized  
how much he'd missed the clean smell of soil, growing plants and sunshine. He almost groaned when Al  
suddenly popped up beside him. 

"Anything?"

Al shook his head. "Still nothing. I guess whatever's flipping you around in Time is giving you a vacation."

"I could find a lot worse places to take a vacation," Sam said, taking a lungful of the fresh air.

* * * * *

"You mentioned one of those moving pictures - movies you called them - about giant rabbits," Loveless reminded me as we stood around the large horse corral where he'd penned the rabbits. 

"Huh?" I asked. The rabbits were still cute, but seeing them that big bothered me.

He repeated his question.

"Yeah, The Night of the Lepus, but it wasn't exactly one of the classics. My dad was a big fan of horror and thriller movies, so I grew up watching them,, but I only watched this one because one of my favorite actors, DeForest Kelley, was in it."

"What happened in this movie?" Artie asked.

"You mean, how did they get rid of the bunnies?"

He nodded.

"It's been a while since I've seen it, but they rigged up some way to electrocute the rabbits."

"Wait a minute," Jim said. "Doctor, when you tried to replace me with Janus, you had an electrified fence. Can't you reconstruct it?"

Loveless shook his head. "I could attempt it, but it didn't have the amount of power necessary to electrocute such a large creature." He blushed. "I'm afraid I was bluffing when I said it could kill you."

"I don't see how we can generate that much power, guys. Your time just doesn't have the technology."

"Then perhaps electricity isn't the answer," Artie said and I could see the wheels turning in his head."

Jim frowned. "So, what else is there?"

"Too bad there aren't any cliffs around here," I muttered. 

"What was that?"

"Just something I read somewhere, Jim. The cavemen didn't have very sophisticated hunting equipment so  
they used to chase their game off a cliff or into a ravine then go down and butcher them."

"Yes, some Indian tribes still do that. Unfortunately, there aren't any cliffs or ravines anywhere near here," Artie said.

"Poisoning them is out of the question, too, we'd also end up poisoning any of the scavengers that tried to  
eat the carcasses." I said. "Not that anybody human would want to eat the meat."

"Why not?" Loveless asked, almost hurt. "My giant rabbits could end hunger and..."

"And probably cause who knows what kind of mutations to the people eating it. You don't know what sort of side effects that hormone you injected could cause in people, do you?"

He shook his head. "My experiments hadn't gotten that far, I'm afraid."

"Figures."

Artie put a hand on my arm to shut me up. "All right, so we can't electrocute them, we can't poison them and we can't run them off a cliff." He checked his pocket watch. "Listen, it's getting late. Why don't we all get some rest and try our hand at it tomorrow."

Loveless nodded. "I've had Antoinette prepare some rooms for you, gentlemen. I hope you'll find them  
comfortable."

Jim gave him a funny look and Loveless held up his hands in surrender.

"I promised Vivian there would be no traps, Mr. West." He glanced up at me with a disappointed look. "Interesting as that might be."

I gave him a dirty look. "Watch it, Doc!" I warned.

Loveless winced. "Must you use that term?"

I shrugged. "You want me to call you "Shorty"?" I asked.

Jim and Artie tried to keep a straight face but broke into laughter as Loveless sighed and shook his head in resignation. "Good night, Vivian," he said and left the room in a huff.

"Now, why didn't we think of that, James?" Artie asked as he and his partner watched the other man walk down  
the corridor. 

"I wouldn't try it, Artie. I think he only lets me get away with it 'cause he thinks he needs me," I said quietly.

"What makes you say that?" Artie asked.

I told him about Loveless' theory regarding my size and his hopes for the future.

Artie nodded. "I'd wondered about the reason for his initial experiments. Of course, it all makes sense now." 

I yawned. "Well, he wasn't real happy about gettin' help from you two. He's a little embarrassed."

We said our good nights and went off to our separate bedrooms in the big farmhouse.

* * * * *

That night, there as a terrible thunderstorm and when we got up the next morning, we went out to check the rabbits. Some of the rabbits escaped during the night and we decided that the storm must have frightened them and they'd gotten out. Fortunately, only seven had gotten away. We ended up spending most of the next day chasing rabbits around, trying to get them back into Dr. Loveless' enclosure. It wasn't easy and we were lucky that these particular bunnies weren't as vicious as the ones in the movie had been. 

We found two of them right off, but the others had wandered farther away so we decided to split up and go looking for them.

Artie, Jacob, one of Dr. Loveless' field hands, and I had managed to rope and haul three of them back to the pen, but Jim, Dr. Loveless and Voltaire were still after two of them.

I finally decided I'd had enough so I got out my boombox and flopped down under a tree on an exposed branch because the ground was still a little wet. I was just glad that there weren't any fireants in this time period.

Artie came over and sat down beside me. He reached over and pulled the plug on the headset and was amazed  
at the sounds coming from the small speakers. "My God, what is that dreadful noise?"

I grinned. "Dr. Demento."

"I'll agree it's demented, but what is it?"

"The Cockroach That Ate Cincinnati."

He shook his head. "And you actually LIKE this music? Don't you have any real music?"

"Like?"

"Opera or perhaps a little Beethoven?"

"Not with me, but I do at home."

He glanced over at the enclosure. "Can you make it  
louder?"

I reached over and twisted the dial just as a bizarre version of "Louie, Louie" started playing. "Okay. Now what?"

He pointed. "Look at the rabbits."

I glanced over at the few rabbits in the pen. "Okay?"

"They're looking this way." He shook his head. "It's the music!"

"Well, the bunnies like it, so it can't be all bad," I said with a grin.

"Yes, there's no accounting for taste."

* * * * *

Sam was walking with his young grandfather and Al in the woods near their home when both of the men froze and listened to a sound they shouldn't have heard in the 1870's.

They listened intently then frowned. "Louie, Louie?" they said together in disbelief.

* * * * *

 

Voltaire rushed up while Artie and I sat watching the rabbits and waiting for Jim and the others to return.I couldn't see the look on the big man's face, but, from Artie's reaction, it must have been terrible.

Artie stood up immediately. "What's happened?"

Voltaire was out of breath, but he managed to tell us that Jim and Dr. Loveless had fallen into a hole.

"Where?"

Voltaire pointed off to the east. "In the Beckett's pasture."

Artie sent Voltaire back to the stable for a rope, then turned to me. "Can you ride?"

I shook my head. "Besides, it'd take longer to saddle the horses than it would to just run over there."

He sighed. "You're right, of course. I suppose we can always ask the Becketts if we need one."

Voltaire returned with the rope and Jacob. The four of us headed off in the direction of the neighboring pasture.

After I nearly went flying over an exposed tree root, Artie slowed down, grabbed my hand and managed to keep me from killing myself.

None of us noticed the man and boy standing at the edge of a nearby field as we rushed past, but we were glad for their help later. 

* * * * *

"Sam, did you see that?" Al yelled as three men and an oddly woman raced past them.

Fortunately, young Samuel was also pointing at the group, so Sam was able to respond. "There must be trouble," he said and received a "no shit" look from his friend in return. He went down on one knee and spoke to the boy. "Samuel, go home and get Josh and Jeremy. I'll see what's going on."

The boy took off in one direction and Sam took off after the others.

"Al, why were they running?" Sam asked, after the boy was out of earshot.

The older man punched some buttons on the handlink. "Sorry, Sam. Ziggy doesn't have anything."

Sam got his answer as they topped the next hill.

There was a small group standing a good ten feet from a large hole in the ground.

"Al?" Sam began, nodding toward the opening.

"Gotcha, Buddy," Al said and, tapping a series of buttons into the handlink, he vanished. 

* * * * *

It took Al's eyes a moment to adjust to the semi-darkness of the hole. He frowned down at a small body lying in the moist dirt. A child? No, it was a man - a dwarf. He knelt to look the little man over, but didn't see anything obviously wrong with him. His breathing was slow and regular, but he was unconscious. "Musta got knocked out in the fall," he  
mumbled.

As he stood, he heard a low groan and turned to see another man half-buried in the dirt. There was a nasty looking cut on his temple and his left shoulder didn't look right at all. He was conscious - barely. "Ah, Jeez!" Al exclaimed. "Hang in there, fella, help's coming."

"Who's there?" the man asked, his voice tight with pain, the green eyes unfocused.

"Just lie still, pal," Al pleaded, knowing the man couldn't hear him. "They know you're here and they'll have you out right away."

The man mumbled something rude about rabbits before he passed out.

"Oh, this is NOT good!" Al said worriedly, noticing that the sides of the hole were slowly crumbling down around him. He swore as he punched the button on the handlink that would return him to Sam's side.

The younger man gave him a "Well" look.

Al frowned. "Not good, Sam," he said and went on to describe what he'd seen in the hole.

Sam nodded slightly and finally approached the clearing where the men and woman stood. As puzzled as he was, this wasn't the time to comment on the clothing the woman wore: an X-Files T-shirt, jeans and high-top sneakers - the injured men were far more important.

"Hello," he said as he stopped near the dark-haired man who seemed to be directing things. "My name's John Beckett. I'd like to help - if I can."

"Any help would be appreciated," the dark haired man said, looking up for the first time since Sam's arrival. "The name's Artemus Gordon, by the way," he added, turning back to the hole. He turned to the giant of a man to his left. "I can't see a thing, Voltaire. Are you sure Jim and Dr. Loveless are down there?"

The big man nodded, a tear rolling down his cheek.

"It looks like last night's rain softened the soil," Sam offered. "The ground must have given way when they walked across it." He frowned. "I don't remember there being any sinkholes in this area." At least there weren't any in his time.

"I'm not concerned with that right now. We've got to get them out of there before more of the hole collapses on top of them."

Sam nodded his agreement. He looked around the clearing. There weren't any branches nearby that looked strong enough to support anyone so that ruled out a sling arrangement.

Gordon turned to the woman. "Any ideas?"

She shrugged. "Sorry, Artie, I didn't bring any sky-hooks and my transporter's in the shop."

"Nothing from any of those innumerable television programs of yours?" 

She shrugged again. "A few, but most of them involve overhanging branches, cherry pickers or fifty-five gallon drums. If we had any idea where they were down there or how deep the hole was..." She frowned and in onion dip."

Artie, not understanding her comment, looked up as young Samuel Beckett arrived with two of the Beckett's fieldhands in a buckboard.

Artie and Sam spotted the load of long, heavy branches lying in the back of the wagon at about the same time and it only took a few moments for the two of them to explain their plan and for the group to set up a large teepee shaped arrangement over the hole. A rope was wound down, around and through it then dropped into the hole and a few moments later Sam was lowered into the hole.

* * * * *

Just as Al had predicted, Sam didn't like what he saw. He found Dr. Loveless starting to regain consciousness and, after a quick examination, helped him into the sling they had made from the rope and had the others haul him up out of the hole.

West was another matter. His left shoulder was certainly damaged and, knowing the state of the medical profession in this time period, it was potentially a permanent injury. He'd deal with that once he got him up out of the hole. He carefully tied the sling around the injured man and, while he was hauled up by the men and woman standing above, took  
the opportunity to look around. He found the remains of a giant rabbit near a litter of rabbit kits - normal sized by the looks of them - the giant rabbit had apparently died in delivery or soon afterward because the kits were hairless and squirming. One or two had already died and the rest surely would if he didn't intervene. He gathered the strongest looking kits and stuffed them into his shirt for warmth and, when the rope was lowered, returned to the surface.  
West and Loveless were loaded into the wagon and, at Sam's insistence, taken to the Beckett ranch.

* * * * *

Sam helped Artie lay Jim onto a bed in one of the guest rooms and Artie stepped back while Sam checked Jim's shoulder and the cut on his temple. 

"You're a doctor, Mr. Beckett?" Artie asked.

"I was a soldier, sir," Sam said, deciding to use John Beckett's experience in the Civil War as a way to explain his medical expertise. Of course, he had no idea just how much John Beckett might have known, but by the time the other man returned, it wouldn't matter.

Artie nodded. "So was I," he said quietly. "So were a lot of us."

"Too many," Sam added. He sighed and looked over at the older man. "Your friend's shoulder looks worse than it is but  
it's going to need treatment." Sam took a deep breath and stood. "I'd like to know just what is going on  
here. Giant rabbits, that woman in her strange clothing, sink holes on my property where there've never been any before."

"It's... complicated," Artie began.

"I don't doubt it."

Artie nodded. "You certainly deserve an explanation." He scratched his head. "The problem is; I seriously  
doubt you'll believe it."

Al wandered in. "Wanna bet, buddy."

Sam frowned. "Try me."

As Artie told the other man about he and his partner working for the Secret Service, their strangely dressed friend, Dr. Loveless' experiment involving the giant rabbits and the time device; Al tried to search for information but Ziggy had little to corroborate the Secret Service Agent's story.

"Artemus Gordon and James West are on the roster of Secret Service agents between 1866 and 1895, Sam, but it's hard to get more than that. Most of the cases from their time aren't on any computer and most of the ones that are on computer, are still classified a hundred plus years later. He must be right about the dimension business. There's nothing in the records from our time on the woman anywhere."

Artie frowned. "I'll go see how the doctor is feeling."

Sam nodded, then turned to Jim West. "Al, does it say how long Mr. West worked for the Secret Service?"

Al checked the handlink. "Let's see. He was hand-picked by General Grant himself, worked with "distinction" for twenty-five years then retired after some sort of disagreement with his partner. He died in 1920."

"So, this injury could change history?" Sam asked.

Al nodded. "Looks pretty bad."

Sam gently felt the other man's shoulder. "Al, it feels like it's dislocated. It's a good thing he's unconscious." 

Al frowned. "Sam, are you sure you should do that? I mean without x-rays or anything - couldn't you make things worse?"

"I don't think I have much choice." 

"Okay, you're the doctor."

He reached down and, bracing himself, took a deep breath and gave the arm a sudden twist and they heard a slight pop.

"Did it work?"

Sam felt around the injury and sighed. "I think so. We'll know more in the morning."

* * * * *

I was standing in the parlor when Artie walked in a few moments later. "How're they doin'?"

"Doctor Loveless is fine. He's changing right now," he said and plopped down on the nearest sofa. "I'm not so sure about Jim."

I sat down beside him. "Don't worry. He'll be fine, Artie," I insisted.

"What makes you so sure?"

"I just know," I said with a grin. "You two still have too much to do."

"I know that in your world, we're fictional characters, but in this world, we do get injured and we do die."

"True, but it's not just a dimensional thing, Artie. Jim's a pretty strong guy. I think that shoulder'll probably slow him down for all of maybe two minutes."

Artie smiled slightly and nodded. "You're probably right."

I struck a dramatic pose. "Nothing stops the great Jim West!" I announced stabbing a finger into the air. 

Artie laughed.

"I spoke to Doctor Loveless about doing an autopsy on the dead rabbit Mr. Beckett found in the sinkhole."

"Great. Anything I can do?"

"I hardly think that would be appropriate."

"Ooo, I just love sexism!" I said sarcastically. "Artie, I won't throw up on your shoes, if that's what you're worried about. I just want to help."

"But..."

"Besides, I've seen X-Files."

"What?"

"Never mind. I don't think you're ready for monsters, alien abductions and government coverups quite yet."

He shook his head. "Let's go see about that rabbit."

* * * * *

"There, Mr. Gordon, do you see it?"

Artemus nodded. "The heart's completely deteriorated."

Loveless frowned. "I wonder what could have caused it."

"Maybe the chemicals you injected weakened it," Artie volunteered. 

"Then, she got frightened by the storm, escaped and with the stress of delivery..."

Loveless nodded his agreement. "If the rest of the rabbits develop this weakness, they could all die of heart attacks in a matter of months."

"What about the babies?" I asked, turning to look at the tiny, squirming, hairless creatures lying in the nest John Beckett had made for them using a towel and a brick he'd warmed in the kitchen fire.

"I've already examined the one that died," Doctor Loveless said. "It died of exposure, but it's completely normal otherwise. The chemicals I used haven't made it grow any larger at all."

I shrugged. "You injected this particular rabbit, right?"

Loveless nodded.

"Then you didn't change their genetics at all." I frowned as I tried to remember what I'd learned in my high school science classes - Mrs. Sudarshan was a wonderful science teacher - and what I'd read on my own in magazines. "Maybe the formula "washed out" of the older rabbits' system after they'd finished growing and they didn't pass it on to their babies."

"Exactly what I was thinking," Loveless agreed.

"Well, I'll admit, I'm completely lost," Artie said, shaking his head. "I don't know when genetics was discovered, but the easiest way to explain is... Artie, you've got brown eyes and black hair, right?"

"Of course."

"Jim's got green eyes and brown hair and I've got blue eyes and brown hair."

"Yes."

"Okay, that means that someone else in your families had the same color eyes and hair. I bet you look like your father, too."

"My grandfather, but what's that got to do with it?"

"That's genetics. The same genes that gave your grandfather his height, skin, hair and eye coloring, health and such were passed to you through your father. If you had a brother, he'd look similar, but slightly different."

"You mean that rubbish that monk in Austria has been writing about?" Dr. Loveless said.

"Yes."

"He's mad."

"No, Doctor, he's right!" I told him. I considered my next words carefully. "In my time, they've started on genetic engineering - changing plants and animals to make them grow better - fruits and vegetables with a longer shelf life, plants that are resistant to diseases. They haven't tried it much on humans yet, there's a lot of controversy on that one - ethics and religious stuff - but they've managed to make certain pests - cockroaches for instance - sterile from birth  
all because their parents ate a certain kind of poison. I shouldn't tell you this, but you had the right idea, you just went about it all wrong. You don't have the equipment to do any more than you did. Mr. Beckett already uses a certain form of genetic engineering when he uses his best bull for stud and keeps seeds from his largest plants for next year's  
crops to make them larger. I hate to tell you, but Genetics is also the explanation for your size and my bad eyesight."

"Let's clean up and continue this in the other room," Artie said as he picked up the box with the surviving kits and we left the room to let Dr. Loveless' men clear away the dead rabbit and its dead kit. 

* * * * *

Jim woke with a terrible headache, but that was nothing compared to the dull, throbbing pain that raced up and down his left arm. He looked over to see his partner was sitting on a nearby chair.

"Morning, Jim," Artie said quietly. "How do you feel?"

"Like a mountain fell on me," he said. His arm and shoulder felt heavier than it had a right to and he couldn't move the arm at all. He looked down. His arm was bound to his chest with strips of heavy cloth. "What happened?"

"You and Dr. Loveless fell down a rabbit hole."

Jim tried to sit up then changed his mind and winced as waves of pain washed over him. "Very funny." 

"Would I lie to you?" Artie held out two tablets and a glass of water. "Dr. Loveless doesn't have anything to give you. Luckily, Vivian had some of those pain tablets with her. She calls it Tylenol."

Jim gave him a suspicious look.

"They'll help," Artie promised him. He helped his partner sit up and watched as he swallowed the tablets. Before he let Jim lay back down, he reached over and slipped a couple of extra pillows behind his friend. 

Jim's face was white with pain as he sank back against the pillows. "Broken?"

"No. You dislocated your shoulder. Mr. Beckett managed to pop it back into place. Dr. Loveless says your shoulder will be sore, but it should be fine in about six weeks."

"What about the rabbits?"

"All dying, I'm afraid. Dr. Loveless' experiments damaged their hearts."

Jim looked up as Vivian entered the room with a tray.

"Olivia thought you could use something to eat."

"I'm not hungry just now."

She set the tray down on the dressing table. "How ya feelin'?"

"All right."

"Yeah, I'll bet. I've got some good news for you. Doctor Loveless says he's going to stop his growth experiments."

"That's good to hear."

"He says he's going to send me home in the morning, too."

"I'll bet you can't wait to get back to your friends."

"Well, yes, and no. I'll miss certain other friends, you know."

Artie smiled. "I know."

"I made him promise he wouldn't pull me back here anymore."

"That's a shame."

We sat and talked for a little while. Jim told us about a voice he'd heard while he was down in the hole. 

"That must have been Mr. Beckett. He went down into the hole after you and Loveless," Artie explained.

Jim shook his head. "I heard it later too, Artie. Mr. Beckett was talking to someone about me. I admit it's a little fuzzy, but then he did something to my arm and... I don't remember much after that."

I frowned. "Wierd. Well, you need some rest. I'd better go back to Loveless' ranch and get my stuff together. Hang in there, Jim. I'll see you in the morning."

Jim's eyes were closed - he had fallen asleep again.

* * * * *

"Al, why haven't I leaped?" Sam asked, looking around. Olivia had given the woman from the future a tray for  
the injured Secret Service agent. 

"Sorry, Sam. This leap has been so weird, Ziggy's totally confused."

The woman re-appeared. "Hi, Sam."

"Excuse me?"

"Sam Beckett, right?"

He frowned. "I'm sorry. My name is John Beckett."

She smiled. "Where's Al?"

"Sam!" Al warned.

"You must be mistaken. I don't know anyone named Al."

"Bull."

"Sam, can she see me?" Al wanted to know.

"Don't panic, Sam, I won't tell anybody."

"How?"

"Jim said he heard a voice down in the hole and then two voices just before you fixed his shoulder. Artie and I had already left the room. I figured Jim heard y'all while he was drifting in and out of consciousness. He thinks it was all a dream, of course."

"You know about me? And Al? How?"

"The same way I know about Jim and Artie."

"Oh. Is there a fictional Sam Beckett in your dimension, too?"

She nodded. "It's called Quantum Leap, Sam, one of my favorite shows."

"Oh."

"Thanks for helping Jim."

"Just doing my job."

"Hang in there, Sam, you've got a lot of interesting times ahead of you. You're doing a great job." She hugged him and grinned. "You too, Al." 

Al frowned at the handlink. "That's it! Bye, bye, Sam."

"What?" John Beckett started at the strange woman with her arms around him. "Excuse me, Miss, what is all  
this?" he asked in surprise, pulling away in shock. 

She grinned. "Sorry, Mr. Beckett," she said and backed away. "I just wanted to thank you for your help."

"I hardly think that is the proper way to go about it, Miss. I'm a married man."

* * * * *

The next morning, the sun was shining and Jim was feeling much better. We walked over to Dr. Loveless' barn and stood around saying our goodbyes. Loveless had gone into the back of the barn to retrieve a piece of equipment for his Time Device. Suddenly, we heard a loud wheezing sound and a tall blue box appeared in the farmyard.

"I'd know that racket anywhere. It's the Doctor!" I said excitedly.

We walked over as a tall, thin man with flowing white hair walked out of the box with a dignified air. My heart clenched. I'd cried when Jon Pertwee died a year to the day after my grandmother. I'd been a big fan of his and I'd met him at several conventions. He'd even sent me a get-well card when I wound up in the hospital with a hurt foot.

"What are you doing with that?" he asked, pointing to Dr. Loveless' time machine. 

I introduced myself. "I'm from the future in another dimension, Doctor. He's sending me home."

"No, he's not. You're lucky to have arrived here at all with that device. It's highly unstable."

"You know this man?" Artie asked.

"In a way, Artie. Artemus Gordon, Jim West, this is the Doctor."

"Doctor who?"

"Precisely, Mr. Gordon," The Doctor said, extending his hand. "I've heard of you, of course. This must be Mr. West."

"You!" Loveless shouted in anger. "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to retrieve the piece of equipment you stole from my TARDIS. You're not ready to be trusted  
with interdimensional Time Travel." 

"You can't."

"This situation is a perfect example of why you can't be trusted. The dimensional barrier between reality and fantasy has been breached and the creatures drifting back and forth are wreaking havoc in both dimensions."

"How bad?" I asked.

"Dragons have begun appearing in the twelfth century and I'm told a black car without a driver has appeared in eighteenth century China."

"How did he manage to steal it, Doctor?"

"A few years ago, I stepped out of my TARDIS to retrieve a companion's hat and he slipped aboard and removed the transdimensional actuator.

"I thought you'd invented the time machine yourself, Doctor," Artie asked.

The little man shook his head. "I used the Doctor's device to make it work, but the theory was sound."

"So was your theory about the chemicals you gave the rabbits," Jim said quietly. "You're losing your touch, Doctor."

Doctor Loveless let out a cry and ran off. Artie tried to catch him, but when he turned the corner, Loveless had vanished. He went to the house and searched the rooms finding only discarded furniture and a few pieces of paper covered with indecipherable scribblings.

"It seems the good doctor had an escape planned all along," Artie said as he came back to the barn.

"Okay, so how am I gonna get home?" I asked.

"I used the machine once before," Artie volunteered. "I could try it again."

The Doctor shook his head. "You'll do nothing of the sort, Mr. Gordon. I'll take her home in my TARDIS."

Artie nodded. "Well, I assume this is goodbye then."

"Afraid so. Without the Doctor's transdimensional actuator, there's no way for me to come back. I'll miss y'all." I gave each of the Secret Service agents a hug - I was extra careful with Jim's sore shoulder - picked up my stuff and walked over to stand beside the Doctor. 

"Come along, my dear, I'll have you home before you're missed," he promised, putting an arm around my shoulders and turned me toward the TARDIS." 

Well, I didn't get home right away, but that's another story.

* * * * *

Weeks later, Jim and Artie opened the back door to their railroad car and stared in disbelief at a large, narrow box tied with a wide purple ribbon, sitting on the desk just inside the door.

"Were you expecting anything?" Artie asked suspiciously.

Jim shook his head. He reached for the box and winced as his left arm protested slightly. It had been almost a month, since it had been dislocated, but he hadn't regained full use of it just yet.

Artie spotted the note tucked under the ribbon and picked it up. He pulled it out of the envelope and read it silently at first.

"Well?"

"It's from Dr. Loveless. 'Best of luck in our next encounter, gentlemen, you'll need it.'"

Jim carefully untied the ribbon and, watching and listening for any booby-traps, gingerly lifted the lid. He placed it on the desk then used a pencil to move the bright purple tissue paper away from the box's contents. He shook his head and sighed as he lifted a large, fur covered object from the box.

"A rabbit's foot!" Artie exclaimed. "Oh, there's another note." He picked it up and laughed as he read it. "You'll  
find no traps in this box, gentlemen, but the truce is over."

* * * * *

I stepped into the large reception room the group had rented for the Annual Gathering and looked around. Everyone had name tags with their real names and their e-mail addresses printed on them for easy identification. I set my tote bag down on a chair and yelled. "Hey, y'all will never guess where I've been."


End file.
